


I believe our paths are forever intertwined

by crushing83



Series: Bullets and Blades [12]
Category: Fast & Furious (Movies), The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Bard is reincarnated, Bard lives many lives, Crossover, M/M, Modern AU, No idea what I'm doing, Owen having strange dreams, Reincarnation, Reincarnation AU, Thranduil confesses, Thranduil considering a life of crime, a member of Dom's team is an elf, a member of Dom's team is half-elven, a member of Owen's team is an elf, bad things happen to elves, half-elven Letty, playing it fast and loose with Fast & Furious canon, playing it fast and loose with Tolkien's mythology, poor use of elvish, pre-Furious 6, somehow Thranduil finds him every time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-16 03:55:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29075937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crushing83/pseuds/crushing83
Summary: Before he can locate Thranduil, Owen has to deal with business. He is lucky—and then confused—when that business brings him to his heart's desire.When the usual evasions and half-truths can't adequately sate Owen's curiosity, Thranduil realises he has to tell Oweneverything.
Relationships: Bard of Laketown/Thranduil, Bard the Bowman/Thranduil, Owen Shaw/Thranduil, Past Bard of Laketown/Thranduil
Series: Bullets and Blades [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/253471
Comments: 40
Kudos: 39





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I cannot promise that I will be able to keep on updating this series. But, I finished this story, too, and I figured I should post it, sooner rather than later.

"You're not hearing me," Letty said, her lip curling in a small snarl. "I'm not leaving until Dom's slate is clear."

From one side of her bed, Thranduil met Tauriel's eyes. He was reaching the limit of his patience. He hadn't disappeared from his life—and love—to sit with a selfish half-elven girl. She'd only been alive for a handful of decades and, while her life had not been easy, she had no idea about the dangers that faced her from multiple directions. Braga wanted to kill her, doctors wanted to study her, and Frank Petty would capture her as soon as he realised her mother had been one of his test subjects. 

At the slight slant of Tauriel's eyebrows, he could tell she was reaching the limit of her patience, too. 

"Your beloved won't ever be free if you die in this foolhardy endeavour—trust me on that," Thranduil said, trying one last time to reason with her. "If you stay, there are three possibilities. One, Braga sends someone to kill you—until you are killed. Two, your doctor realises your physiology is unique and  _ not completely human,  _ and they decide to make you their next research paper. Three, the secret military group after all of us discovers your existence and intercepts you—and then you spend the rest of your life being tortured for their pleasure."

"I can—"

Thranduil shook his head. "You can't dodge them. You think they don't have ties to armies, navies, intelligence, and investigation organisations? They are connected to everything, internationally," he interjected. 

Frowning, Letty looked up at him. "You dodged them," she argued. 

"Until yesterday," he said. 

"Tori?" Letty asked, moving her eyes from Thranduil to Tauriel. "Is there any way I can stay?"

"Braga has connections with the FBI, and the FBI is small-time compared to the group hunting us," Tauriel said, relaying information she'd obtained during another call with Erulissë (and not information Thranduil leaked, because he could not betray Owen's confidences). "It's not safe for you."

Letty's brow furrowed even more. "Can I see Dom before I go?" she asked. 

"Do you know where he is?" Tauriel asked. 

She sighed and shook her head. "Maybe Mexico… but he could've gone further south, too," she said. "The feds refused to tell me anything. Or… well. Brian said they didn't know."

"They might not," Tauriel reasoned. "If he pays cash in a rural or low-tech community. If he has help." 

"Is that gonna be my deal, too?" 

Tauriel looked at Thranduil; Letty followed suit. 

"What?" Thranduil asked. 

After a small smile and a shake of her head, Tauriel said, "I thought you might want to tell her our plan."

He arched an eyebrow. "Do we have a plan? Last I checked, we were essentially on our own, with few resources and nearly zero communication with the people who were amenable to helping us," he responded. 

"Helping you with what?" Letty asked. 

Turning his attention to Letty, Thranduil said, "Rescuing our kin and putting a stop to the madness at our heels. Keep in mind we have no idea—yet—how to achieve either goal."

He had eventually confessed to Tauriel what he thought he saw in Mister Nobody's eyes during their brief (but too long) interaction. While Thranduil had been reluctant to even consider the prophecy about the return of Morgoth, because  _ Dagor Dagorath _ had been nothing but a myth for so much of his life, Tauriel had been the one to introduce the subject to their discussion. 

_ "Legend said he'd been unhoused, not physically restrained,"  _ she'd said during one of their recent flights.  _ "If he slips through the Door of Night, without a physical body, surely he could still warp or possess the minds of men—one, perhaps, at first, and more later, or perhaps he is moving many pawns simultaneously. Either way, it doesn't necessarily need to be a fast process. He has time to work slowly, without detection, if no one is watching the doors into our world."  _

Thranduil hadn't been wild about that notion. But, he had noticed a slow decline in the world's balance, in different areas; when Tauriel spoke about abuse, war, food scarcity, and the environment, he knew she'd noticed similar declines. He was willing to chalk it up to the most corrupt of men obtaining the most wealth and power and making poor decisions. Tauriel had not been so sure; with the mention of Thranduil seeing a shadow in the man hunting them, she was willing to believe the Battle of All Battles was on the horizon. 

With a glint of hope in her eyes, Tauriel leaned forward. "If it is the prophecy, we will be facing a war unlike anything we've ever seen before," she said, gaze darting from Thranduil to Letty and back to Thranduil. "But, the world will be remade. Yavanna will bring back the Two Trees. The Elves will return—"

"It is a prophecy. While I would love to believe our kin will return to us, we have no idea how the reality of it would come to be," Thranduil interjected. 

"My mom?" Letty asked. "She'd come back?"

Tauriel's focus shifted to Letty. "It's possible," she said. "We were taught that Valinor's light would shine on all of us. Those who passed would rise again."

Thranduil held his tongue. From what he remembered of the prophecy and his initial impressions of it, it had sounded like the battle itself would be waged in Valinor. The Valar wouldn't return to the world, at large. They'd all but abandoned the rest of the planet, choosing to guard their precious and secret territory. Thranduil had no desire to sail—his life was in the imperfect world—and he would not yield to a Vala's demand that he board a ship. What did the Valar understand of love—or of duty? Thranduil would not defer to them unless forced to do so because they descend upon him and make their demands to his face.

"Sounds crazy," Letty murmured. 

"Crazier than my being alive for thousands of years?" Thranduil asked. 

After a shrug, Letty said, "I never really believed the stories." 

Thranduil snorted. 

Tauriel pulled her phone from her jacket pocket. "We've only got a few more minutes," she said. "Your door guards will be back on the hour and we need to go."

He could see the hesitation on Letty's face. To (hopefully) encourage her, Thranduil leaned down and clasped his hand upon her shoulder. 

"I understand about love, and the need to preserve and protect it," he said. He let his face soften. "I had to leave my love behind after the one in charge of the elf hunt located me. As much as I want to be by his side, I would be putting his life in danger if I stayed—" 

Thranduil only caught a glimpse of surprise on Letty's face before he heard a  _ very  _ familiar voice coming from behind him. 

"Is that why you left, love?"

Shocked, Thranduil straightened and whirled around to see Owen standing in the doorway to Letty's private hospital room. He blinked; he considered pinching himself. Dressed in denim and leather, his face set in a stormy expression, Thranduil wasn't sure if his initial instinct to run to him would be best. He looked dangerous; he looked as if he were working. 

Thranduil turned his head slightly towards Tauriel. "You couldn't have warned me?" he asked. 

_ "Tirio?" _ she supplied, smirking a little. 

After a roll of his eyes, he faced Owen again. "I… I, yes. That is why I left. Petty was in my flat when we went over there," he said. "He wanted to entice me to kill your brother. And help him stop you. Neither is an option, so I fled after he left." 

"And you show up here," Owen said. "With Braga's loose end." 

"She is one of—"

Owen spared Tauriel a flat, cold look, and she had the sense to stop talking. In the wake of her aborted explanation, he turned back to Thranduil. 

"She is the daughter of one of their escaped test subjects," Thranduil said. 

After a quick glance at Letty, who had accurately sensed a threat and tensed, Owen said, "She doesn't look like you two." 

"No, she doesn't," Thranduil agreed. "Still, it would not be wise to let her get caught." 

"Why?" Owen asked. 

"If they believe they can breed soldiers, instead of what they did to—" Thranduil broke off before he could name names. He shook his head slightly. "Think about it, Owen. Raising children with half of our genetic makeup. Training them from birth. The consequences… Letty is proof that it could be done."

Clenching his jaw, Owen looked away for a moment. He seemed to be deep in (heavy) thought. 

"All right, say I set aside my task for this evening, and I allow you to take Ortiz to a safe house," Owen said. "If I do this, Thran, you and I are going to sit down and you are going to tell me  _ everything. _ No evasions or half-truths." 

Thranduil felt his heart try to jump into his throat. Part of him wanted to tell Owen everything (and always had) and part of him was terrified Owen would leave him once Thranduil did that. He could think Thranduil was a monster; he could think Thranduil was insane. Either option could inspire Owen to cast Thranduil aside—not to mention the fact that Owen could loathe that Thranduil only considered being with him because he was one of Bard's many reincarnations. 

But, he  _ really _ wanted to share  _ everything  _ with Owen, no matter the risk. He was sick of the evasions and half-truths, as Owen put it, and of censoring his private thoughts and spoken words. 

_ "Aníron peded,"  _ Thranduil said, more to Tauriel than anyone else. 

Voicing her agreement, Tauriel quickly replied,  _ "I naw nîn ben naw lîn." _

Thranduil focused back upon Owen. "I will tell you everything. You may regret it, but I will tell you," he said. 

"I can't regret the truth,  _ meleth nín," _ Owen responded. 

Thranduil arched an eyebrow as, behind him, Letty and Tauriel both snorted. Letty didn't even know any of his personal history and she found the situation hilarious; Tauriel, at least, had an inkling of the depth of his history. He had no idea how Owen would react—but he knew it would not be with good humour. 

"Where are we going?" Tauriel asked. 

"You have a place?" Owen asked. "And Thran has the address?"

"Yes. And yes," she replied. 

He nodded. 

"Then, Thran and I are going for a drive," Owen declared. 

"I do not think you should be driving while I tell you everything."

At Thranduil's comment, Owen smirked. "Drive first, fuck second, talk third," he said. "Do you agree with that order of events?"

Tauriel snorted and muttered something about priorities in Sindarin. With pink cheeks, Thranduil nodded. 

"Well, let's get to it," Owen declared, clapping his hands together. "Guard dogs will be back any minute."

As Letty reached for the bag of clothes Tauriel had brought her, Thranduil took a step towards Owen. He faltered, nervousness and lust making him unsteady; in response, Owen reached out for him and pulled him close. 

"Wasn't sure I'd see you again," he said in a low voice. "I don't like that."

Thranduil wrapped his arms around Owen. His hands settled on the nape of his neck and the small of his back. 

"I didn't like it either," Thranduil whispered. 

"C'mon, let's go for a drive. Tauriel's a capable girl."

Knowing there could be no more delays, Thranduil nodded and allowed himself to be guided out of the room. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Tirio = Watch/Guard (Look out)  
> Aníron peded = I desire to speak   
> I naw nîn ben naw lîn = My thought is in accordance with your thought (formal)   
> Meleth nín = My love


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've probably botched some of this up... *ducks*

After a long-and-quiet drive beyond the city (and county) limits, to a stretch of land that resembled a forest, and a quick-and-dirty shag, where Thranduil ended up spread out on the hood of Owen's car, they cleaned up as best as they could and redressed for their conversation. Words failed Thranduil; he had no idea where to start. He took Owen's hand and pulled him away from the car, wanting to be near the ground and trees, and Owen gave up leading to follow him. 

"Thran?"

Thranduil shook his head. He put his hand on a tree. He missed the forests of his youth. 

"Yavanna," he whispered. "Why have you forsaken your great works?"

Owen squeezed his hand and asked, "How do you know that name?"

"She created the trees," Thranduil said, not looking at Owen. "There's so much you don't know. So much I need to tell you. I don't know where to start." 

"You aren't going to ask how I know that name?" Owen asked. 

Thranduil blinked and raised his head. When he looked at Owen, he saw a smile on his kiss-swollen lips. 

"I… yes, that would have been smart of me," Thranduil conceded. "How  _ do _ you know that name?"

"I have these dreams," Owen said. "The dragon, sure. But also… this… well. As a kid, I was sure you were an angel. You—I'm fairly sure it's you, anyway—seemed to glow in the forest. You told me they're her labours. That she shelters you and gives you beauty. And, in return, you treasure and respect them."

Thranduil's lower lip trembled. He had spent time talking with Bard, telling him their history, but… 

How did Owen dream that?

"No one else… no one else ever said they…"

"Thran?"

Thranduil squeezed Owen's hand and threaded their fingers together. It was time to tell his tale. 

"What I'm about to tell you… it's far-fetched, I know, but  _ please listen _ to me," he said. "I wanted to figure out the best way to explain this, but Petty showing up and then you showing up… I'm not prepared."

Owen nodded. 

"First, though, you have to know. You are the first, of all of them, after Bard, to know the truth. You are the first to ever tell me you dream things from your past," Thranduil said, speaking quickly before he lost his nerve. "It gives me so much hope. That you are the one I've been waiting for—if that could even be. That you are the one, since Bard, who fits all of me—who I've become in this time. That… that you won't run screaming." 

"Tell me."

Thranduil closed his eyes briefly, thought a prayer into the universe, and then looked back at Owen. 

"I am an elf," he said. 

Smiling again, Owen said, "I know." 

"No, no, I am really an elf," Thranduil said. "We live impossibly long lives, we have strength you can't perceive, and we have senses that outclass yours. We are not and have never been human." 

"How long is 'impossibly long?'"

"So long I can no longer count," Thranduil admitted. "I was born near the end of what our historians called the First Age. The time period was approximately six hundred years. The Second Age was over three thousand years long. I was over five thousand years old, and into our Third Age, when Bard came into my life.

"My kind was supposed to leave the world—sail for a land our creators and protectors maintain and protect. The Fourth Age was the Age of Men. Many did leave. We should have all gone, but after Sauron was defeated, for good, my forest was recovered, and… and I couldn't leave Bard's final resting place.

"I was a king. He became a king after we met, through his own merits. At first, I stayed to help his descendants—or to watch over them, I guess—but then… I had the Greenwood back and it was Bard's final resting place and I couldn't sail for Valinor like so many of my kin. I could have seen my son and my wife, or my daughter if she'd sailed, too, but…"

Owen took a step towards Thranduil, closing the gap between them. "But, he'd been your heart," Owen whispered. 

Nodding, Thranduil blinked back tears. "I thought I would fade from grief. At least I would be near him," he whispered. "But, the restored forest sustained me. Protected me. And when I ventured out of my grief, I met a man. He looked exactly like Bard. Different in a few small ways, but, ultimately… the essence of him was the same. And the cycle has repeated, over and over. Seemingly endlessly. 

"Occasionally, we only become the best of friends. Most of the time, though, we become lovers and partners. After hiding from the grief, I return to the world, and our paths cross again. 

"You… you are the same, but different. Believe me when I say I am in love with you because you are you. It isn't a guarantee."

"Why is this happening?" Owen asked. "Why do I dream about… is the dragon real?"

Thranduil wiped his cheeks with his free hand. "Smaug, yes. He was real," he replied. "As were Bain, Sigrid, and Tilda. Bard's children. He slew the dragon, with Bain's help."

"They didn't seem royal in my dreams. More working class."

"He was a very skilled bowman. But, he ran a barge to and from Laketown. For most of his life, he lived meagerly in financial terms," Thranduil whispered. "He was of royal blood. His ancestor, Lord Girion, ruled Dale until Smaug destroyed it. The dwarves in Erebor—"

"Dwarves?!"

"—had too much greed. Too much gold. And Smaug descended from the North to lay claim to all of it," Thranduil continued. "Dale was destroyed in the process. When the dwarves returned to reclaim it, Smaug destroyed Laketown as punishment for their daring."

Owen nodded. "The fires," he said. 

"Yes, and after Bard killed him, he gathered what remained of the town's population and headed to Dale's ruins for shelter," Thranduil said. "Once the battle of too many armies was done—because everyone wanted a piece of the hoard, myself included, I'll admit—Bard emerged as a natural leader for his people and they rebuilt Dale."

"Well. I'm glad the dream has a happy ending," Owen murmured. 

"That's all you have to say?"

After a shrug of his shoulders, Owen said, "How do you want me to react? Insist you're making up some wild tale? I can't, unless you're somehow forcing me to dream the names of your gods and the names and faces of the people at that time. 

"I don't understand any of it. But, I can't outright dismiss it."

"I'm sorry for not telling—"

Owen's facial expression took on a wry tone. "For not telling me you are tens of thousands years old?" he interjected. "Really, Thran. I don't think that's something for which you need to apologise." 

Thranduil nodded. 

"Well… wow. And, you're really a king." 

"Hardly a king anymore," Thranduil protested. "Can't be a king without a kingdom." 

Owen shrugged again. "Still… and Tauriel and Vegh—"

"Vegh was my first captain of the royal guard," Thranduil explained. "Tauriel was my ward first, she became Vegh's replacement later. I assumed they sailed away. I was less attentive as elves started leaving the kingdom for the sea." 

"Letty?"

Thranduil shook his head. "She's half-elven. Her mother was one of the captured test subjects. She may live a long life, but she is half human. She appears 'normal,'" he explained. "When I first heard about her, I wondered if she would have the choice to make—the path of the Eldar or of the Edain—but I do not believe her mother was one of Elrond's kin. The choice is for his bloodline alone." 

"You know I'm going to ask about everything you just said, so you might as well keep explaining," Owen joked. 

With a small smile and a slight nod, Thranduil said, "There are not many half-elves, or there weren't in my time, but of those, only Eärendil and Elwing were given a choice of which path to choose: of elves, Eldar, or of man, Edain.

"Their children, and their children's children, and so on, all had a similar choice to make. Elrond chose to live as an elf; his children were born with the same choice, and all but one chose similarly, in the end. His brother, Elros, chose the fate of man. His descendants were not given the choice. Nor, I believe, were Elrond's daughter's children. Only descended elves and their descendants could choose." 

"But Letty…"

Thranduil shook his head. "She is not one of Elrond's descendents, to my knowledge. Unless his twin boys were particularly busy seeding the territory," he said, smirking as he thought about Elladan and Elrohir and how they'd been far more likely to start a war (and win that war) with a series of pranks (at least, when he'd known them). 

Owen couldn't know how unlikely it was that Elrond had generations of  _ Peredhil _ between Valinor and the world as Thranduil knew it, but it still amused him. 

"So. Let's set that aside, for now, and focus on the immediate concern: Letty. Deckard sees her as a loose end. She knows about the tunnels," Owen said, moving past genetics and the truth bomb Thranduil dropped onto him. "He was going to push Braga to tidy his mess, but I don't want the feds getting their hands on whoever he would send. Braga's ruthless, but he is also sloppy." 

Thranduil nodded. 

"She's a skilled driver. If she has half of your kind's reflexes and instincts, she'd be a good fit for us," he continued. He snorted. "Especially since I'm trying to decide who to remove from the team." 

"Remove?" Thranduil echoed. 

Owen nodded. "You left before I could tell you everything about Oakes and Adolfson and their trip," he said. His free arm moved enough so he could rest his hand on Thranduil's hip. "When you left, and before Vegh knew enough to sit me down, I tasked them to look for your path out of the country. Oakes refused, Adolfson balked. Denlinger wasn't thrilled, but he did the work. I don't think they're you're biggest fans. Oakes even went so far as to say Adolfson's all the long-range oversight we need." 

"Do they know—"

"What they brought me, nothing of what you just told me is in it," Owen interrupted. "Nothing about  _ elves  _ or  _ the Eldar _ or anything else to suggest you're not human. As far as I could tell, they think the prisoners were genetic anomalies or experiments."

After processing that, Thranduil nodded. "So, either, no one captured had spilled the deepest of our secrets, despite what they were facing, or no one doing the capturing had left that information behind," he said. 

"Or Oakes and Adolfson are hanging onto it for themselves, though I don't understand the purpose of that because it would betray Vegh, too, even if they figured out you are connected to all of what they found," Owen suggested. "I don't think they've made the connection from that search to you and Vegh." 

Before Thranduil could say anything else, Owen continued talking. "Truthfully, if Tauriel could be lured to the dark side, I'd take you, her, Vegh, and Letty, and let go of everyone else apart from Ivory—and maybe Klaus," he said. 

"Better not let any of them hear you say that," Thranduil murmured. 

Owen smiled and kissed Thranduil's temple. 

"Are you angry?" Thranduil asked. 

"I'm… stunned. Confused. Maybe a little hurt," he replied, his mouth near Thranduil's ear. "But, no, love, I'm not angry." 

"I… I don't compare you to Bard," Thranduil added. "If you worry—"

"Honestly, I'm not worried," Owen said. He kissed the corner of Thranduil's frown. "I saw your picture—on Kendall's ID, and… and I just felt… drawn. When I met you, it felt right. Real. Knowing the truth  _ is  _ a shock. 

"But it also explains a lot. Why you got upset after our first night together. Why you and Tauriel both speak about your lives the way you do. Like there's so much time."

"Because there has been a lot of time," Thranduil mumbled. 

"I worried your Da married you off at twelve," Owen admitted. 

At that, Thranduil snorted. "No, I was… a lot older," he said. 

Owen chuckled and drew Thranduil into a warm embrace. Relieved by Owen's words and actions, Thranduil wrapped his arms around Owen's strong and capable body. He might get to keep his love; the truth did not appear to be a wedge between them. Thranduil closed his eyes against the tears threatening to spill. 

"I may have more questions," Owen said. 

"I'll do my best to answer them," Thranduil whispered. 

Owen nodded into Thranduil's shoulder. "May I speak with Vegh?" he asked. 

"She… ah, I suppose," he replied. "She wanted to keep her identity a secret. Which is ridiculous, because to know mine is to know hers."

"If I were her, I might be afraid I'd sell her out to keep you," Owen reasoned. 

Thranduil frowned. He hadn't considered that. He would believe it of Deckard, but… Owen tended to hang onto the people who did their best work for him. 

"She's the best employee I've ever had, so not bloody likely," Owen muttered.

Thranduil snorted. 

Owen rubbed his back in long, soothing strokes. "Now, if Petty had you both at gunpoint and told me to choose—"

"You'd never let him get the upper hand on you like that," Thranduil said. 

It was Owen's turn to snort. "I like that you know me so well," he said in a low voice that held traces of laughter. 

Falling silent, they held each other close and savoured their time together. Thranduil hadn't been sure when he'd ever see Owen again, after he'd fled with Tauriel; he'd been afraid he would never again feel Owen's body against his own. The contact was more reassuring than he was comfortable admitting out loud. 

"We should rejoin the others, but I want to stay here longer," Thranduil admitted in a whisper. 

"Five more minutes, then," Owen said. 

They sealed the bargain with a kiss. 


	3. Chapter 3

"I wondered if he'd kill you. Guess I was wrong." 

Thranduil looked up and around the room as soon as he entered the safehouse. He'd expected to see and hear Tauriel or Letty; he had not expected to see Erulissë sitting on the terribly cheap (and old and dirty) furniture, cleaning a gun. 

Owen, who had been behind Thranduil, took one look at her and said, "Gisele. Did Braga send you?"

She shook her head. "No, of course not. He believes you are here to fix Fenix's mistake," she replied. "I am the one who called Tori and Ken—"

"He knows our names," Thranduil said. "I told him everything." 

Erulissë's face took on a scowl. "You told him?" she demanded. "Why would you tell  _ him  _ all that we are?"

"I do not answer to you. I never have," Thranduil said, keeping his voice calm and cool. "You still have the annoying habit of forgetting your place."

"You are not king anymore."

"And you are not my subject—and never have been," he agreed. "Tell me, Erulissë, did you enjoy keeping the truth of my daughter from me? Did you and Lord Elrond have a laugh or two at my expense? Did you find it to be suitable revenge?"

"She knew?" Owen asked. 

"She relocated to Imladris long before I took the throne," Thranduil said. "After her multiple disagreements with my father, I convinced him to send her away, where she could still live a whole life, find a purpose, choose a mate, and  _ thrive. _ He wanted to do worse. I intervened."

Abandoning her firearm, Erulissë rose to a standing position and crossed her arms. 

"Elrond and Gil-Galad were in need of aid, after the first siege, so I made sure to send her with willing aid and supplies—which definitely incurred my father's wrath, but I maintain, to this day, that it was the best thing to do for everyone involved," he told Owen. "Last I'd heard, she'd become a part of his inner circle of advisors. She would have been aware of any comings and goings within its boundaries." 

After studying Erulissë, Owen looked at Thranduil. "From what you've said of your father, I'm surprised he didn't want to have her killed," he said. 

"I'm sure that was on his mind during his darkest moods," Thranduil agreed. He turned back to Erulissë. "Owen is no concern of yours. He is my one and only love, reborn again and again. If you cannot accept—"

Erulissë's eyes widened and her body tensed in surprise (instead of in more hostility). Thranduil stopped talking to observe her. 

"It is not just the King of Gondor, then, who continues to return," Erulissë said. 

"You've seen Aragorn?" Thranduil asked. 

She nodded. "Several times. At least a hundred years between each sighting," she said. "I thought it was something to do with his heritage. But… this man…" 

"Resembles King Bard, nearly exactly," Tauriel said from the doorway, Letty behind her. 

"I remember Smaug, bits and pieces," Owen added. 

As if that were normal, Erulissë nodded. "He recognised me, from his past life," she admitted. "The first time, he only felt I was familiar, like we'd met before. Déjà vu. The last time, he treated me as if I were a friend, from the moment we first crossed paths." 

Thranduil frowned. He had not noticed any progression in the speed and depth at which he and Bard's reincarnations connected. The beginning few were slower, but Thranduil chalked that up to man's reservations of same-sex relationships (of which he'd never understood) and his own grief. Owen had been rather quick to stake his claim, but Thranduil had attributed that to Owen's surety and determination. He'd never taken note of his relationships in those sorts of details. All he knew was that Owen was the first to dream about his past life in Middle Earth. 

"Owen is the first, as far as I know, to dream of his past life," Thranduil said. "And I did not notice anything else."

Erulissë nodded again. "Quick bond, the sense of rightness?" she asked. 

"Yes," Thranduil said, almost at the same time that Owen did. 

"Your souls are bound," she hypothesised. "I suspect Aragorn is bound to someone, too."

"Has anyone reported seeing Arwen reborn?" Thranduil asked. 

Shaking her head slightly, Erulissë frowned. "Not to my knowledge, but I have not asked in a long time," she replied. 

Letty cleared her throat. "This is fascinating and all, but what does this have to do with anything?"

Tauriel rolled her eyes as she walked to Erulissë's side. "The young, so impatient," she joked. 

"Soulmates are real, so what? Tell me something I don't already know," Letty muttered as she headed to the sofa and sat down. "This doesn't help us." 

Owen snorted and stepped up to Thranduil's side. Thranduil wanted to touch him, but he held off for the sake of business; Owen's mood had shifted, from curious to calculating, and Thranduil could tell that much from his face and the set of his shoulders. 

"We should get you out of the country, right away," Owen said. "The feebs won't admit to anyone that you're alive and on the run. It's better for you to remain dead. Your agent friend—"

Letty snorted.

"—would be a risk if he were informed. If I know he has a soft spot for your beau, your sister-in-law, and you, then the Bureau definitely knows this," Owen continued, undaunted by Letty's attitude. "And we can't drop you anywhere between Mexico and Brazil because Deckard aims to tie up all loose ends. You knowing about the tunnels is a risk to him."

Erulissë nodded and smirked when Letty glowered at her. Judging their brief exchange, Thranduil assumed they'd debated that point while he and Owen were reconnecting. 

"However, I believe we can salvage this," Owen said. "Come work for me."

Letty's eyes widened. "You can't be serious," she said. 

"You won't have to do anything you haven't already done," he said. "I need good drivers and thieves—especially once Thran starts working with Tauriel and the others to free any elves still captured."

"But—"

"It might even be possible to send you back to your family." 

After he made that pronouncement, Owen stopped and bowed his head. He chuckled, gave himself a shake, and looked back up at everyone else in the room. 

"Yeah… it could definitely be possible," he said. 

Thranduil looked from Owen to Erulissë, and found them both smirking. 

"What am I missing?" Tauriel asked, before Thranduil could ask a similar question. 

"If he comes for Fenix, he'd have to retrace Letty's path to get to him," Erulissë said, meeting Owen's eyes. "If they come together, moving past their history for the greater good or one using the other…"

"Same, I suspect, but with added government assistance," Owen agreed. "And then, with his record clear, hopefully, or not, I'm not fussed, he'd be their asset. Petty is the type to use anyone if it gets him his target. Hobbs is no different."

"Wait for Braga to be taken down, let Deckard put someone in place to guard the remaining structures, see how the dust settles, and—"

"Put Letty front and centre in a flashy and complicated vehicular heist," Owen said, finishing Erulissë's sentence. "We can use that as a distraction, too, when necessary." 

"Hold on," Letty protested. "This isn't… you're not psychics. You can't know—"

"That the man who left you to protect you because he loves you so much won't seek revenge for your death?" Owen interrupted. "Thran?"

"If Petty had gone after you in my absence, I would have burned him to ash," Thranduil said, without hesitation. 

"Same, love. Without hesitation." 

Thranduil smiled. His cheeks only flushed when Tauriel beamed at him from behind Erulissë and Letty. In response to Tauriel, Owen snorted. 

"Anyway. If he ends up working for Hobbs, clear records would be something he'd demand, obviously—and something Hobbs would use, again, obviously, to secure his loyalty," Owen said, still thinking through his plan. "You might even be on the table, Letty. Anything and everything is up for grabs when the infamous Mister Nobody is trying to secure his prize." 

"Who's Mister Nobody?" Letty asked. 

"A dangerous man," Tauriel said. "He is the one currently responsible for the experiments." 

Letty nodded, frowned, and asked another question. "What's his prize?" 

"My brother's head on a pike, eventually," Owen said. "And all the elves and half-elves in existence, either dead or under his control, if he can manage it." 

"They'd chase you to get to him," Thranduil said as he thought his way along Owen's logic.

Tauriel stepped around the sofa. "I have his blood work," she said. At Owen's raised eyebrow, she added, "You were right to be suspicious. We compared the blood to the notes based on samples we had of Letty as a child."

"Her mother wanted to know if it were safe to take her to a doctor," Owen guessed. 

Tauriel nodded. "Yes. Anyway, it's different. His, I mean. I don't understand the science—not completely. But, enough is the same to recognise some of our markers, apparently," she explained. "It looks like he received successful transfusions of some kind at some point." 

They'd assumed that; however, to hear it confirmed was an unsettling prospect. 

Owen sighed and ran a hand over his head. "All right, all right," he said. "There's some science in the files my team extracted from the closed military bases. I will set up a download link for you. If your people—"

"I'll pass it on to the ones who understand it," she promised.

"Good. It might not help with much, but maybe understanding their methods… might give us all some insight into their end goal," he said. Then, he looked back at Letty and asked, "How good's your acting?"

"Why?"

"Deckard won't just let you skate on this," Owen said.

Erulissë caught on first. She nodded. "If you can't remember, due to head trauma caused in the explosion, then you aren't a threat," she explained to Letty. "Owen would see you as a resource. Deckard might keep an eye on you, but he has always accepted Owen's hiring choices."

"I don't like to waste good resources. A girl with no name who can drive better than almost anyone else I've ever encountered? A girl who doesn't mind sneaking and thieving? I'd be a fool to pass up that kind of talent," Owen said. "And Deck knows that much about me. We haven't had any problems to date." 

"Fine… fine, I'll do it. But you have to get me back to Dom when it's safe," she stipulated. 

In agreement with her condition, Owen nodded. 

"When will we leave, and where will we go?" Thranduil asked. 

"I may… have somewhere," Erulissë suggested. "I do not know if Bellasiel is still there, but—"

Thranduil stepped forward. "Where?"

"Metula, Israel," she replied. "The Hidden People are there. I lived with them for a long time. She was still there when I left."

Thranduil clenched his hands into fists. When Owen covered one of his hands with his own, Thranduil relaxed a little. 

"If she is no longer there, they may be able to get in touch with her. It would be a good, secluded place to reunite, with our kind all around," Erulissë said. 

"The Hidden People… you mean, the Nandor who originally settled in Lórien and the Greenwood," Thranduil confirmed. At Erulissë's nod, he asked, "How many remain?" 

"I do not know for certain," Erulissë replied. 

"The Nandor?" Owen asked, almost as Erulissë was speaking. "Like the rumours of a group some people call—" 

_ "Avud Nandor," _ Erulissë confirmed, nodding again. "It is a terrible approximation, but people hear things and say things and rumours build." 

Thranduil looked at Owen. "What group did you encounter?" he asked. 

"Just mentions of a group… stumbled onto them after I started looking into those pictures Deck sent us," he explained. He shrugged and threaded his fingers together with Thranduil's fingers. With a quick (but gentle) tug, Thranduil found himself near enough to Owen that there was scarcely any space between them. "It wasn't an investigation. I… I would have told you," he said. 

While Owen was always handsome, there was something about his  _ slightly  _ guilty face that tugged at Thranduil's heartstrings. He smiled and caressed Owen's jaw with his free hand. 

"I know," he murmured. "You've been incredibly patient with me and my secrets." 

"Patient enough to reward me later?" Owen asked with a smirk. 

"If you play your cards ri—"

"All right, enough," Tauriel interjected. "Erulissë and I will be able to hear, and I've already seen and heard this show enough times—"

Thranduil whirled and gasped. "Tauriel!" 

"The stables, Thranduil. I saw too much of both of you. I don't need a repeat," she protested. 

Owen snorted. Releasing Thranduil's hand, Owen put his hands on Thranduil's hips. "We'd lock the door," he joked. After pressing a kiss to Thranduil's clothed shoulder, he sighed and moved away from Thranduil. "I am going to make a couple of calls. Business first. I'm going to give everyone some time. But, I want Vegh here." 

Tauriel nudged Erulissë. "Velossfaeniel," she supplied. 

"She'd be welcome to join us in Metula," Erulissë said. "I am unsure of my standing with her, but I would like to see her. It's been centuries." 

Owen chuckled and shook his head as he pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket. "Still wrapping my head around that," he muttered. He unlocked his screen; before he could place a call, he said, "I'll step out back to talk to her—and then to Ivory and Klaus. I'll find you when it's time for bed?" 

Thranduil nodded. 

Tauriel cleared her throat. When they both looked at her, she said, "He's in the bedroom at the end of the hall. I am next door. Be considerate." 

"I'm always considerate," Owen teased. 

He gave Thranduil a playful leering look before he slipped out of the main room and headed towards the back of the house. Thranduil brought a hand up to cover his smirk; Tauriel glaring at him, in Owen's absence, would only make him laugh and he didn't think she'd appreciate that. 

"You two are impossible," Tauriel muttered, though in not too angry a tone. 

Thranduil shrugged. That was accurate. They were impossibly linked, on a level even Thranduil didn't comprehend. They were impossibly matched—a king who had lived too many lifetimes to count and a dishonourably discharged criminal who had only lived a little more than three decades. But, they fit so well and bonded so closely that Thranduil's heart had been aching ever since they left Europe. They might be impossible, but Thranduil did not care. Owen was his and they were together again. Nothing else mattered. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's going to be it for a little while! I started the next story. I'm 2/7 chapters of the way through. I won't be posting until I have the whole thing written and partially edited (this is a thing I started doing, and it works for me, because it doesn't add to the number of WIPs glaring at me with their best disappointed faces), but I'm determined to get there, because it's one step closer to the big movie. And because I missed these characters. It shouldn't be another 4 years before I update again. I'm on it, I swear! 
> 
> Thank you for the support for these last two stories. I'd been nervous no one would read them after such a long hiatus <3


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